First Impressions- CrackPairings!
by LadyZelthePen
Summary: Collab fic between Jade-Max, Amaryllis Complex, and myself featuring crackpairings. Some romance, some not, but a whole lot of fun! :D
1. By Amaryllis Complex

**Rila:** The first of my trio for the collab between Jade-Max, LadyZelthePen and I. :D

Disclaimer: _I wish they'd shown/show more of cute little kid!Ahsoka. As in before she became a padawan. *squee*_

Word Count: 855

Chapter Description: "We may not be able to prepare the future for our children, but we can at least prepare our children for the future." - Franklin D. Roosevelt.

The archives were not ever the definition of crowded, nor were conversations within the walls ever carried out in more than hushed whispers — Madam Jocasta Nu kept it that way by a finger pressed to her lips as she made her rounds, a stern gleam to her eye.

But it was peaceful today, and empty save for a tiny Togruta girl, seated at one of the tables. Her feet did not touch the ground, legs swinging in the gap between the legs. One hand propped her head up, the other flipping idly through one of the books that lay on the table.

That itself was not odd — what was odd was the fact that she shouldn't have been there. Shaking his head, Kit approached the table, resisting the upward twitch of his lips when she looked up, eyes going comically wide with fear. "Master Fisto!"

"Shouldn't you be in class, Ahsoka?" His tone was amused, no true anger in it — and he allowed a smile to spread across his lips when the tiny girl before him fidgeted, tugging at the clothes that were a little too big for her through the arms, a nervous squirm.

"The other younglings," she began, her voice soft, "they don't..."

Kit blinked, and then frowned. "Ahsoka?"

"They said I'm too young," murmured Ahsoka, and turned to watch him with wide, innocent blue eyes. Eyes that had not yet seen the terrors of battle, of the hardships of being a Padawan. They were the wide eyes of a child who trusted without fault — and begged him for an answer. "Am I too young, Master Fisto?"

In terms of her training to become a Padawan, she was not quite as old as some of the other younglings — but she had every right to be there. He shook his head. "Ahsoka," he asked in return, "do _you_ think you're too young?"

Ahsoka paused, her head cocking to the side before gnawing her bottom lip. She seemed to be giving it real thought, her nose wrinkling before she shook her head. "No," she answered at last, "I don't think so."

The uncertainty remained, however, and Kit reached forward to place a gentle hand on one of her small, narrow shoulders. His eyes flicked to the book on the table, and he was almost surprised to see that she had been studying in here, instead of wandering around the Temple as she was known to do.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested, and Ahsoka blinked once, twice, and then nodded and slid off the chair. Her head barely reached his waist, and he slowed his pace so that she could keep up as they moved to the entrance of the archives and past Madam Jocasta, who nodded in greeting.

"Where are we going?" Ahsoka inquired, and Kit glanced down as Ahsoka, who apparently had deemed that it did not need an immediate answer, followed the question with another. "Is being a Jedi hard, Master?"

"Yes," he answered, and his mouth tugged into a smile when she looked up at him, watching him intently. "But it's very rewarding, Ahsoka."

"I can't wait to construct my lightsabre," Ahsoka told him, and he could not help but shake his head — as all children, her attention span was flighty, jumping from one topic to the next at a whim. She hopped forward, arms at her sides as she skipped and leaped ahead of him. Even for her tiny size, she was surprisingly quick and well-balanced — her heritage as a Togruta, no doubt. Her lekku, almost comically short, bounced against her neck as she jumped forward and then spun, laughing. "Do you know when I'll get to construct my lightsabre, Master?"

"When Master Yoda believes you're ready," he answered, and laughed when she shot him a pout. "Be patient, young one."

"Waiting is boring," she huffed, cheeks puffing out before she exhaled noisily. "Do you think I'll be a good Jedi, Master?"

He blinked again, observing her — so small and young, watching him with a severity and wondering that did not quite fit her stature — and his mouth slipped into a smaller, fonder smile as he reached her, placing a hand on her head. "I have no doubts that you will, Ahsoka."

She beamed, reaching up to take her hand into both of her own, tiny and rust colored and swung it with a laugh. He chuckled and pulled his hand away. "Come on, Ahsoka. I think it's time we returned you to class."

Ahsoka pouted once more, latching back onto his hand as he began walking. "I guess," she sighed, and said nothing more until they were outside the classroom. "Thank-you, Master Fisto." She squeezed his hand, a softer smile curving her lips. "I hope that I'm assigned to you when I become a Padawan."

And then she was gone, disappearing behind the door. Kit stared at the door and then smiled. "As do I, Ahsoka." She was interesting as it was, and he was curious as to how she would develop as a Padawan. With a shake of his head, Kit turned and moved away from the door.


	2. Visions by Jade-Max

**Second in the First Impressions collab- this one's by Jade-Max! :) **

**(I feel bad because I didn't put up a proper intro for the previous chapter- that one was by Amaryllis Complex. Sorry Rila!) **

**Visions**

A trip to Kamino as a part of the 'tour' arranged by the Senate for the newest Senators to join, or re-join, the Republic was not the welcome Onderonian Senator Lux Bonteri expected.

The shuttle dropping the dignitaries down to the planet was constantly buffeted with strong winds, catching the shuttle hard only once and forcing the clone pilot at the helm to compensate. It was enough to drop his stomach to his boots as he grasped his restraints with a white knuckled grip.

No one spoke as the shuttle came in for a landing, the sound of the repulsors reverberating through the ship followed by the sensation of being forced down in his seat and then the slight jarring of landing. The whine of the engines died as they were dialed back and placed on standby, and Lux was out of his seat he moment the restrains loosened.

"Should you not wait for the pilot to-"

_"Welcome to Kamino, Senators."_

Lux shot the long faced, dark red skinned alien who'd been speaking a look and arched an eyebrow. "You were saying?"

The creature shook its head and Lux turned around, striding towards the ramp that would take them out, eagerness eating away at him. There was supposed to be Jedi here to greet them and he was secretly hoping that Ahsoka Tano would be one of them. He'd not spoken with her since Onderon had joined the Republic and he was eager to renew the relationship.

Reaching the ramp, he waited impatiently as the ramp lowered, casting a disdainful look back at his fellow Senators to realize they were only now climbing out of their seats. A comment about 'impetuous youth' reached him and his expression darkened. Turning his back on them, he strode forward as the hiss of the hydraulics sounded, down and out of the shuttle.

"Senator Bonteri, welcome to Kamino."

Lux stopped short, that calm, melodious voice at odds with the woman before him.

Long, arching montrals curved above her head, her lekku nearly to her waist, the sienna colored skin that of the young woman who'd been much on his mind of late, though the facial markings were different. Robes swathed her, from neck to ankle, but even at rest, she exuded a restrained kind of power that warned the casual onlooker not to underestimate her.

It was her serene expression, however, that brought his gaze back to hers, capturing his, and a thought rose unbidden in his mind. _So that's what Ahsoka will look like one day. _This then, was the infamous General Shaak Ti, the Jedi in charge of the Clone's training.

Remembering his manners, he offered her a bow and a charming smile before striding forward to meet her, hearing the other Senators behind him still fumbling around inside the ship. Stopping before her, he offered his hand, which she took without a moment's hesitation. Using the courtly manners bred into him, he lifted it to his lips and brushed a soft kiss against the backs of her fingers.

They were cool, like Ahsoka's, beneath his mouth, and she tasted… clean; with a hint of exotic spice. "It is my honor, Master Jedi, to meet one such as you."

Her smile never shifted, but Lux caught an amused gleam within the depths of her eyes as he lifted his head; a gleam that was quickly masked as she slowly pulled her hand away. Intrigued, he stepped back, wondering if she'd sensed that he was honored to meet another Togrutan female more than he was a Jedi. The other introductions passed in a blur as the rest of his group finally made it off the shuttle and Lux considered the Jedi's reaction.

Ahsoka would have called him on it. Was this then what awaited her? This restrained and tempered vision of Togruta loveliness, nothing but a shadow of her old exuberance and life? Or was the Master Jedi simply more experienced at knowing when and where such behavior was permissible? Likely; just looking at her, Lux suspected she was at least double Ahsoka's age; a mature version of what she was and a glimmer of what she would someday be.

The initial tour passed quickly, with a round through the sterile halls to showcase the cloning and training facilities, thousands upon thousands of Clones currently engaged in their daily routines. As impressive as it was, Lux found he was more drawn to their guide than their surroundings. While the other Senators spoke amongst themselves about the sights before them, Lux watched Shaak Ti.

He watched as she seemed to float across the floor, her feet hidden beneath her robes and giving her an almost ethereal look. It was a stark contrast to Ahsoka's more jarring steps, purposeful and hard, as she headed for her next objective. Where Ahsoka always looked like she knew where she was going and had some place to be, Shaak Ti projected the illusion of serenity.

It had to be an illusion; Togruta were, by nature he'd heard, anything but serene.

The conclusion of their tour was at a banquet hall where the Senators quickly fell upon the food as if they'd been deprived for weeks instead of a few bare hours. Lux hung back, shaking his head, and spied the Togrutan Jedi Master on the balcony beyond. Sliding through the meal melee, he exited the room and paused on the threshold to the balcony.

"May I join you, Master Jedi?"

She didn't so much as look at him, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she looked into the dark, raining night. "Of course, Senator. What can I do for you?"

Lux glanced behind him and, after a moment, closed the partition between the balcony and the dining room, cutting out most of the sound and leaving the gently lashing of the rain against the tranparisteel. "I've not met many Jedi," deciding to be as honest as he could without implicating Ahsoka, he stepped to the rail to look through the bubble that surrounded it at the storming sky. "And those I have did not have your… calm."

"You have met Master Kenobi, have you not?"

"Briefly, but I'm afraid my interactions with him were limited. While the Jedi did send a trio of their… _your_ order to help us on Onderon, the main part of our training was handled by Captain Rex, Master Skywalker and his Padawan. Master Kenobi spent very little time with us."

"No doubt trying to ensure you were self-sufficient and wouldn't rely on the Jedi," she sounded amused but Lux couldn't tell when he slanted her a look, "I suspect Master Skywalker and his Padawan were far more involved."

"They were."

"It is Master Skywalker's way."

"Forgive me for saying so Master Ti, but he did not have your sense of calm and no Togruta of my acquaintance has, either."

"You have met so very many of us, then?

His ears reddened. "I had assumed that the one I know was typical of your species."

"Temperance comes with time, young man," she finally turned to look at him, her lips tilted into a funny little half smile, "Experience is a far more effective teacher than simple age. This Togruta you know, Padawan Tano-"

Lux looked away, caught.

"- is atypical of Togruta; just as you are atypical of a human male. To judge a race by the interactions of one individual could be conceived as both insulting and narrow minded. This is something most Senators have learned and you must strive to achieve. You time with the Separatists appears to have lessened your respect for those of us who are not of your species; it is an opinion you will need to shed if you hope to be effective in representing your people."

Her words stung, more so because they were delivered in a kind of matter of fact manner, with such a calm tone of voice that they were simply words without accusation or censure.

"I mean no offence, Master Ti."

"And there is no offence taken, Senator Bonteri; simply a discussion between Senator and Jedi. Your time with Padawan Tano appears to have begun to widen your horizons. To seek me out, alone, without your companions, is mark of trust."

"Or curiosity," he admitted. "You're nothing like her."

"Should I be?" She smiled faintly.

"For all we humans are a diverse species, we share similar traits aside from the physical." He turned, leaning on the balcony rail. "I suppose I was hoping you would share something of those with her."

"Are you disappointed to find we are so very different?"

Considering the question, Lux finally shook his head with a grin. "No. I can't say that I am. Looking at you, I see what she could - but likely won't - someday be. You are the rank she aspires to, the dream she cherishes most; the day she achieves it, though, isn't the day she'll have your calm."

"You may be correct," Shaak Ti conceded with an incline of her head, "but I learned a long time ago to never try and predict a Padawan, especially one influenced by Skywalker. You should return to the meal; you have not yet eaten."

"Neither have you."

"I will eat, in time."

Enjoying her company and suddenly loathe to lose it, Lux offered her his elbow. She wasn't Ahsoka but something even more intriguing; he found himself a little… preoccupied with her. "Join me for dinner, Master Jedi? I would welcome both your company and your council."

She looked at him a moment and then, to his utter shock, stepped towards him and curled one small, strong hand about his elbow. He was surprised to find he had to look down into her eyes; she seemed so much bigger at a distance. "A courtly gesture of courtesy will always be rewarded with the same by those with manners. I accept, Senator."

With a genuine smile, Lux folded his free hand about hers. "Then, m'lady, I will endeavor to be a charming dinner companion."

"I do not believe," she commented with an answering smile as she waved one hand at the door to open it, ending the separation of balcony and dining room, "you will find that a taxing task."

_fin_


	3. Soon by LadyZelthePen

**An AU in which Ferus Olin never left the Jedi Order and Padme Amidala never married Anakin Skywalker. :P **

**Soon**

Ferus Olin glanced up from the mug of ale in his hand to look around again at the low-level bar. The most interesting sentients were congregated here, but there was only one person he was interested in at this point, and he still didn't see her.

The drink had long since failed to keep his attention, so Ferus took a moment to study the few beings closest to him. A Twi'lek dancer was engaging a Wroonian man in conversation, and by the looks of things, they would be engaged in quite a bit more before the night was out. Ferus shook his head slightly, lifting the mug to take a quick swallow.

The others in the bar were a wide mixture of criminals and smugglers- those the Empire would love to track down and see thrown in prison, but the new government hardly had time for that. There seemed to be bigger threats out there these days, he noted with a small smile. He'd picked this place well to meet with his informant- no one seemed interested in noticing the lone man in the corner.

"How's the drink?" A cloaked woman approached slowly and sat down in the seat across from him. The cowl of her hood kept her face hidden in shadows, but Ferus caught a glimpse of her full lips in the bar's dim lighting.

He pushed the mug toward her, leaning back against the stained seat cushions. "Try it, if you want," he said, tamping down a smile.

She nodded and picked up the mug, feigning a dainty sip. "It grows on you, I suppose." She pushed her hood down, revealing a heart-shaped face with a pleasant smile and large brown eyes. Ferus nodded toward her. "How long have you been waiting for me?"

"Not too long." Ferus waved over the robo-waitress and waited while his informant ordered a quick dinner. "I must say, your holo-pictures don't even begin to do you justice, my lady."

Despite the dim lighting of the bar, Ferus still saw the distinct coloring of a blush along her cheeks and her neck. He smiled.

"I would return a compliment," she replied, "but I'm afraid I've never heard of you before."

"No harm in that. The less anyone knows of me, the better off I am." He leaned forward, resting both arms on the table. "Were you able to get it?"

She slid the datachip across the tabletop toward him. "Every last system now loyal to the Empire, but more importantly, those who are unwilling, are listed here. If you can rally them, it would be a crushing blow to Palpatine." She lowered her voice and glanced around. "Is it true Master Yoda is still alive?"

"Yes, he is. And we're building an army even as we speak." Ferus slipped the small chip into one of the belt pouches. "Thank you for this, my lady, but I'd advise you to keep low. I wouldn't want such a pretty thing as yourself to be under the Emperor's wrath."

She laughed, and he noticed dimples in her cheeks. "I will do my part to help you. I've been in worse situations before, and this one will be no different."

Something in her voice caught his attention, and Ferus nodded slowly. "No stranger to the more extreme conditions, I take it?" He smiled. "You're not like most senators, my lady."

"I never claimed to be," she returned, hiding a smile behind a sip of water.

Moments of silence passed while she ate, and Ferus returned to studying the other occupants of the bar. Some had left- the Twi'lek and Wroonian were the first he noticed missing- and others had come in. A thin human man had taken a seat at the bar and had ordered a drink, which sat there untouched.

Ferus straightened, and he caught a glimpse of the object just hidden in the man's hand.

"Padme." He took her hand, and she looked up at him, surprised. "We should probably get going so we don't miss the film."

"Wha..?" She followed his quick glanced toward the man and realization dawned. Returning her brown eyes to his face, she smiled and clasped his hand. "That sounds wonderful. Thanks for meeting me here and letting me get a bite to eat. It's been a long day."

He stood and pulled his coat from off the back of the chair, draping it over her shoulders as she stood. Padme pulled the garment closer around her, smiling up at him. Ferus put a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned closer to him.

"Thanks for sending those pictures of your sister's wedding. I'm sorry I missed it, but I know she understood." Ferus raised his voice enough to be heard over the buzz of noise so the man would hear.

Padme nodded. "Well, you did have the very important business trip to go on."

They exited the bar and Ferus noticed the man was following them after a few moments. He kept his arm around Padme's waist, following her slight lead toward one of the public lifts that would take them to the higher levels of Coruscant. The man wasn't in sight when they boarded the lift, and when the doors closed, Padme sagged against the wall in relief.

"So, is this normal for you?" he teased.

"You have no idea." He caught the glint of amusement in her eyes, and something in his chest warmed at the sight. "That was some quick thinking back there."

Ferus nodded. "Thank you."

"So what movie are we going to see?"

His mind froze. "Uh…well, I actually hadn't thought that far ahead. Your pick?"

Padme laughed. "Charming," she said, swiping away a strand of her hair. "Are you usually like this?"

"I like to talk fast, think later, if that's what you mean." His comment was rewarded by another laugh, a bit longer this time. Ferus leaned against the railing of the lift, watching her.

The lift dinged all too soon and slowed to a stop. Padme stepped out first, glancing back at him as if to be sure he was still there.

"My place isn't too far, so I think we'll be okay walking. Besides, it won't be too dangerous- not with a big strong guy like you to protect me." Her smile was just perfectly flirtatious, and Ferus found himself getting just a teensy bit dizzy.

Ferus nodded, offering her his arm this time. Padme smiled in gratitude and accepted the gesture in silence, and the short walk to her apartments passed quickly.

"Do you think he was really following us?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, I've no doubt of it. I'm afraid of what that means for you." He looked down at her, noting how much smaller she was in contrast to himself.

"Oh, don't worry about me. The Emperor knows full well how loyal I am to democracy and freedom. I'm just glad I was able to help you out as much as I could before…" She stopped, and he detected the note of a sob in her voice. In a moment, she straightened and all evidence of sorrow had passed. "It is my pleasure to help you; if it means a free Republic again, I will do what I must."

She stopped at the door of her apartment. "Thank you for walking me home, Ferus." Padme smiled shyly, glancing down at the sidewalk.

"It was my pleasure, and thank you." He smiled, not sure how to go on.

Padme nodded and turned to go inside, but Ferus caught her arm. "Wait."

"What is it?" She turned, and he saw the look of relief in her eyes.

"When can I see you again, my lady?"

For a moment, she toyed with a smile. "Soon."

**Thanks for reading! :) **


	4. Lionheart by Amaryllis Complex

**Second installment from Amaryllis Complex, this time featuring Commander Cody and Riyo Chuchi! :D **

**Rila:** Because I have the feeling that, with all the strong female characters, just about every clone in the GAR has a healthy respect for women. Especially the dangerous, Force-using, lightsabre-weilding ones. Yeah. XD

Disclaimer: _Because this would be interesting and, quite honestly, cute. :3_

Word Count: 1,135

Chapter Description: A mutual admiration of strength.

In Cody's experience, women were far from the frail, delicate creatures that they were often assumed to be. Then again, he supposed that his view was a little skewed — the women that he encountered and worked with were fully capable of taking care of themselves.

Even Senator Amidala, who was not a Jedi, had a strength that was to be respected in the way she spoke. The fact that she knew how to handle a blaster did not hurt matters either. Regardless of the fact that she knew how to handle weapons, Cody had found himself stationed with General Kenobi and several others of the 212th to make sure that the Senator's meeting with other Galactic Representatives went as it should.

And so far it was, and Cody found himself scanning the perimeter outside in an almost bored manner. There was still a tension to his muscles, but he had to admit that the lack of activity was making for an incredibly dull day. And so, for lack of better thing to do, he began walking.

Not into the building, but around the courtyard that surrounded it, observing the lush green grass and various flowers with pale green stalks that swayed in the breeze. The peaceful scene seemed fitting, given the negotiations for peace that were taking place within the building.

There was a flash of red from the periphery of his eye, and he turned, finding the splash of bright color worth another look — and found that it was not a flower, but a person.

Perched on the stone edge of a fountain that sprayed crystaline water into the air was a well-dressed girl, no doubt one of the Senators that had gathered for the meeting. The blue skin and purple hair gave her away as the Pantoran Senator, Riyo Chuchi. Why she was outside, he didn't know. She turned towards him as he approached, eyes wide as she stood. "Oh," she said, and made a pass underneath her eyes with her hands.

Cody was a clone. Cody was a Commander, a respected man within the GAR. But Cody, for all his knowledge of battle and fighting droids and everything else that came with flash-training on Kamino, did not know how to deal with girls. Especially girls that, given the wet, clumped quality of the dark lashes that hung over her eyes, had been crying.

And so, Cody was at a loss as to what to do or say — and could only watch helplessly as she wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat. Her eyes, a warm, golden color, flicked over him curiously, her head tilting. "You're a clone, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Yes, Senator."

She blinked and a smile played around her mouth — but it did not fully form, and it disappeared as she glanced away, forehead creasing before she perched herself back on the edge of the fountain. It was clear that something was troubling her, and though Cody did not feel as though he could do much in the way of comfort, he didn't feel comfortable leaving her here alone. And so, after a moment of deliberation, he took a seat beside her.

Struggling to find something to say to her — what exactly _did_ one say in this type of situation? —, Cody paused for a moment before inquiring hesitantly, "Is something wrong, Senator?" When she stared, he hastily backtracked, wondering if he had done something to upset her when her eyes watered. "I meant—"

"Why am I out here when I should be in there?" she supplied, a hand waving to encompass the courtyard, and then her gaze sliding over to the building. Swallowing, Cody nodded. Riyo sighed and passed her hands over her eyes again, trying to stem the flow of tears. "I'm afraid to let my people down," she told him, with just the lightest of wavering edges to her tone. "That I will let them down, that I will make the wrong decision."

It was clear that she thought that she was being stupid, an almost bitter edge to her words directed towards herself, a harsh, critical view not of her position, but of her involvement with it and choices that she had to make. Because they weren't just choices for her — they were for the people that she represented, the people who were counting on her and depending on her. And even though their situations were very different in almost all aspects — there was still an essential similarity in the heaviness of such a responsibility. It did not help, he supposed, that Senator Chuchi was very young — perhaps, he noted, just a year or so older than Commander Offee.

Not quite a child, but a little less than an adult, pushed into a position that even those far beyond her years had trouble with. The downward set of her shoulders and the tilt of her head made her look so very small, and before he quite knew what he was doing, he placed a hand upon her shoulder. The touch was light, hesitant, and he made to pull his hand away, cheeks uncomfortably warm with the realization that he had both overstepped his boundaries — she _was_ a senator, after all — and the fact that she was staring at him.

"Sorry," he told her, and was relieved that his voice was still level and calm despite the embarassment of his action. His brothers, at least the more girl-savvy ones, would have been laughing at his poor attempt at comfort and pointing out all the things that he was doing wrong. Senator Chuchi shook her head and her mouth curved into a small smile.

"It's okay," she said.

"I think you're wrong," he told her in response, and quickly continued as she stared at him in confusion, "In thinking that you'll let your people down. The fact that you're still their Senator says something, doesn't it? They trust you, and they'll put their faith in whatever decision you make."

Wide, golden eyes watered once more with tears, and he was tempted to start cursing — after this, he wouldn't complain about battle droids anymore. Battle droids were _far_ easier to deal with than girls, especially the _crying_ variety — and blinked when she smiled.

"You're right," she answered, and brought a hand up to wipe the tears that slipped from her eyes. And despite the wet quality of her eyes, a small, idle part of him (that sounded _far too much like Fives)_ noted that she had a rather pretty smile. She stood and Cody followed suit. "Care to walk with me back to the building?" she inquired, and it was an invitation — a choice, a chance to refuse as he was not allowed with much else.

Behind the bucket, Cody's lips quirked. "It'd be a pleasure, Senator."


	5. A Lesson in Manners by Jade-Max

**Second installment by Jade-Max, this one featuring Luminara Unduli and Hondo Ohnaka. :) **

**A Lesson in Manners**

_Season 5, Post Episode 5 AU - Luminara Unduli catches up with Hondo bare hours after he's sold Ahsoka to Bane and escaped… _

"It would appear that you are my prisoner, Pirate."

"Prisoner is such a harsh term, Jedi," Hondo smiled charmingly, winningly, examining the woman before him with a critical eye, his hands still down by his belt. "I prefer guest or, perhaps, associate?"

"Your preferences are of no concern to me," she came back dryly. "You will surrender peacefully and be returned to the council for justice."

"You wound me, Jedi; I have done nothing to wrong _you_."

Hondo observed her critically, noting how she didn't rise to his baiting and wondering if he'd finally encountered a Jedi lacking a sense of humor. Skywalker was always touchy, but at least he could normally be made to appreciate the humor of a situation with a turn of phrase; especially if his Padawan was present. A Padawan he'd recently, regrettably, sold to one Bounty Hunter, Cad Bane.

Ah well, business was business and Cad Bane had been willing to pay his asking price for the Padawan. That he'd overturned it simply to put the sassy young woman on the spot and mess with her head aside, Hondo had enjoyed watching his old associate toy with her. It wasn't normally his style, but Bane was particularly well suited to pushing the Padawan's buttons and, for all his reservations, Hondo had been thoroughly entertained watching as Bane had extracted a kiss from her in exchange for her freedom.

Not something Hondo would have done, but Bane… one never knew the Bounty Hunter's motivations.

"Your unprovoked attack on a Jedi ship carrying younglings coupled with a boarding action that cost the order a promising young Padawan indicates otherwise, Pirate."

"Hondo Ohnaka, please," he proffered her a bow, "at your service, Master Jedi."

"Do you or do you not don't deny the charges?"

"I attacked no marked Jedi cruiser or ship, Master Jedi; we did have a run in with an unmarked derelict," watching her, he took delight in seeing the way the skin around her eyes tightened. Nothing he was saying was untrue, precisely, just not the whole truth. "It unfortunately resulted in damage to both ships, forcing us to return here, for repairs."

"We recovered the other derelict, Mister Ohnaka; the younglings were quite adamant as to your involvement." Her arms crossed, the fabric of her robes whispering against one another.

Hondo found himself absently wondering what was beneath it. She had potential to be beautiful and seemed to down play it; not a Mirilian trait he could ever remember encountering before. Perhaps it was a Jedi thing?

"Where is Padawan Tano?"

"Alas," he sighed dramatically, shaking his head with regret, "she is no longer my guest. Perhaps if you had arrived two hours ago, we could have come to some arrangement."

"If you killed-"

"Killed!" Affronted, insulted, he looked at the Jedi, shocked. "I would _never_ think to _kill_ a Jedi! What an unprofitable endeavor that would be, my dear. I would never be so crass as to _kill_ a Jedi."

"Then what has become of the Padawan, Pirate?"

"Call me Hondo," he insisted with a grin. "Your General Kenobi does, beautiful lady," perhaps that was stretching it, but he was certainly intrigued that someone who _could_ have been fair was so strict, "I _insist_ you do the same."

"I will not-"

"Then I am afraid our discussion is over," he sighed, shaking his head and turning to go. "Farewell!"

"We are not done here!"

"Perhaps you are not, but I am, Jedi." He tossed it back over his shoulder as he headed for the door to his base, lifting one hand in farewell, "I'm afraid I cannot continue such an important discussion with as rude a guest as you. Good bye!"

"Rude!"

He paused glancing back over his shoulder. "You come to my home with threats and accusations without so much as an introduction. I do not know what else you Jedi teach at your temple, but manners do not appear to be included."

There was a moment of silence

"I am Jedi Master Luminara Unduli, Captain Ohnaka; my sincere apologies for not introducing myself. It would appear I have forgotten my manners in my concern for the Padawan." She inclined her head in a gesture of respect. "My sincerest apologies."

Luminara. He almost laughed. She was hardly the radiant being her name suggested; perhaps it was a culture thing. Turning to face her again, he smiled invitingly and gestured towards the doors to his home. "A pleasure, Master Unduli; perhaps you will join me for a drink as we discuss what fate has befallen Skywaker's Padawan? I won't take no for an answer, you know."

"Then I accept."

Hondo waited for her to join him before leading the way into his base, completely ignoring the fact that there were several squads of Clone troopers surrounding the main doors with their blasters pointed his way.

"General, I don't think-"

"At ease, Commander," the Jedi turned to address the man with Commander's stripes who'd stepped forward and Hondo, graciously in his own estimation, paused to wait for her. "This will not take long."

Hondo chuckled inwardly. The Jedi was in for a surprise; the hospitality of his people, especially _his _home would never be considered lacking. But he wouldn't enlighten her. Not just yet. He waited until she was at his side again and passing through the doors before he cast a parting shot back at the ever concerned clone.

"Do not worry, Commander, we will shower your General with hospitality," the doors began to close as he timed his words perfectly, "make yourself comfortable; you will be out there for some time!"

_"Gen-"_

The doors closed and Hondo did laugh this time, smiling at his guest. "Now, you are truly my guest, Jedi Unduli."

"Commander Gree will not take kindly to your humor, Hondo."

"Perhaps not," he agreed amicably, "but I do! A drink? Something to eat perhaps? I can have some brought to your men if you insist."

"I do."

"Good," he waved to the men ahead and they disappeared. "Then we can become better acquainted and I will tell you all about having Ahsoka Tano as my guest and where she has gone."

"I look forward to your tale."

"Not," he assured her, leading her into the main hall of his base, "as much as I do to tell it."

His tale, when he did tell it, lasted through the rest of the day and deep into the night. When the sun came up the next morning and the Jedi had heard her fill, listening politely to him waxing poetic about Bane's plan, she left with a smile.

As far as payments went, Hondo'd had worse, but it was the knowledge that she was leaving and he'd made another Jedi contact that pleased him best. One who knew his style and understood him a little better; one who would be as accepting of him and his styles as Kenobi.

Even if she didn't know how to dress. Alas; perhaps next time he'd give her fashion tips.

_fin_


	6. Jealous by LadyZelthePen

**Second installment by myself, LadyZelthePen, this one featuring Mace Windu and Siri Tachi.**

**Jealous**

Siri smoothed the skirt of the dress and studied her reflection in the full length mirror. The only way she could describe the slinky red dress was alluring. The hem came well above her knees, showing off quite a bit of leg, and the neckline plunged low enough to reveal her cleavage. She made a face at her reflection, but the dress really did make her look the part.

She turned around just as Mace Windu- Kiamm Dza'vel, she reminded herself- walked out of the 'fresher in a black tux. He stopped when he saw her, and Siri again noted the strange look in his eyes when he looked at her.

"Want some help with that?" she asked, noting he was still holding the red necktie.

Mace let her have it, keeping his head tilted back so she could work. "I take it you're an expert."

Siri shrugged, tying the last knot and smoothing the tie. Her hand lingered on his chest for a moment, and she looked up at him. "I've done my share over the years," she replied, remembering he had asked her a question.

Mace nodded but said nothing. He stepped away from her and turned toward the mirror.

"Tonight is our last chance," he said. "I'm counting on you to get close to the Count tonight."

"He'll spill tonight, I'm sure." Siri bit her lip, briefly touching her waist. "Do you think…is the dress alright? For the part, I mean."

Siri felt strange under Mace's gaze, but it wasn't the usual times when he was intently studying someone. A chill rippled down her spine, but Siri held still until he nodded slowly.

"Yes, you look most fine."

He held his arm out to her, and she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow.

The party downstairs was much the same as it had been the nights before. As soon as they'd been introduced and greeted by the more prestigious attendees, Mace excused himself from her side. Siri took refuge by the wall, watching the guests.

The Count approached her at some point in the evening, and they must have spoken, but she didn't recall much of the conversation later. Now sitting at one of the tables, Siri toyed with her wine glass all the while watching Mace with a Twi'lek woman across the room. The wench was practically hanging off him and Siri felt the flare of jealousy inside. She tried to convince herself it was just part of her role here- Mace was supposed to be her cheating husband after all, and she was his poor lonely wife in need of some attention, something the Count would provide- but she knew it wasn't.

Siri stood, leaving her glass of wine on the table, and made her way toward them. Mace looked up as she approached and loosened one of the Twi'lek's arms from around his neck.

"How dare you!" Siri pulled her arm back and punched the woman in the face, watching as the coral-skinned Twi'lek fell backward with a steady stream of blood pouring from her broken nose.

Maybe it wasn't the best way to make a good impression on Mace, but Siri really wouldn't have done anything differently.

"So, what was that for anyway?" he asked her later when they were en route back to Coruscant.

Siri shrugged. "She was getting on my nerves."


	7. Gone by Amaryllis Complex

**Third installment by Amaryllis Complex. :) This one was written before the S5 finale, so we do apologize for any conflicts with existing canon at the moment. :) **

**Rila:** I _finally_ got this done because Paul sat my butt down in front of the computer and said that I wasn't leaving until I wrote _something_ and Jade helped me out a bit by getting the springboard of these few past episodes and the 'what if' of the Council making Ahsoka leave/her choosing to leave. And as far as this goes...I can't write Rex/Barriss as a romantic thing. I can't — brain won't let me, plus they've never really gotten any sort of dialogue between them, so I can't run off with subtext like I do with Rex/Ahsoka. _But_ I _can_ see them as friends, especially given the situation down below. :D Now *crackles knuckles* to go grab another crack pairing and see what I can do with it...

Disclaimer: _I'd also like to thank LadyZel 'cause she's kept my confidence level up about this. You're amazing, m'dear! :D_

Word Count: 630

Chapter Description: Nothing was certain, but one could hope.

**Gone**

It was the approach of another presence to his table that brought Rex's attention away from his meal, and he blinked. "Commander Offee," he acknowledged, having seen the Mirilan Jedi around from time to time, and seeing as he had seen General Skywalker talking to General Unduli before hand, it made sense that her Padawan would be wandering around somewhere. Barriss' mouth curled into a small smile.

"Good to see you, Captain," she began, and then continued, "May I join you?"

He nodded, though he could not help but note that she sat down in the seat directly across from him, a seat that had, until recently, usually been occupied by another Jedi. She had not been Mirilan, her skin sunset hued instead of pale green, and white markings on her face instead of the cluster of diamonds that stretched across Barriss' nose to the tops of her cheeks. Bright blue eyes had watched him, though it was a set of darker blue ones that observed him now.

"Do you miss her, Captain?" Barriss' inquiry made him blink, and she watched him calmly, waiting for an answer. He knew the 'she' that Barriss was talking about, because she was sitting in the same seat that had once been hers.

_Ahsoka._

She was gone.

It was not like when his brothers fell — she was a warrior, yes, but not like _him_. There was no one who looked just like her that could replace her — nor was she dead. Well, as far as he knew, and he was certain that General Skywalker was keeping up to date on his Padawan — _former,_ he reminded himself — and so if he had said nothing, then she was fine. But it didn't stop him from looking for her. He'd catch himself waiting to see her bounding up to General Skywalker or coming up to talk with him — but he found himself alone at the lunch table unless he joined Cody or someone else, and the space beside General Skywalker remained empty.

But he was not the only one who missed her — General Skywalker was a given, as was General Kenobi — but amongst the men, he was not the only one who missed her. She had been, after all, not just the Commander, but _their_ Commander. And without her, it became what it had been like before she'd arrived at all — just with less ease about it.

But in consideration to Barriss question — _"Do you miss her, Captain?"_ — he did not have an answer. Or at least, one that he felt comfortable giving to her. He remained silent, and Barriss watched him for a moment longer before she said, "I've overstepped my boundaries. My apologies, Captain."

"It's fine," he replied, though he was grateful that she did not press the issue. Barriss did not look entirely comforted by his response, though she resumed talking before he could add anything to soften the almost brusque response that he'd given her.

"Master Skywalker still believes in her innocence," Barriss told him, staring at her food rather than eating it as she spoke. "As do I, but..." Her brows creased, the confidence that all Jedi seemed to have momentarily gone and exchanged for uncertainty. "I worry for her."

"General Skywalker has been keeping tabs on her," Rex told her, watching as dark blue eyes slid up and scanned his face before locking with his own, "as far as he knows, she's alright. She'll be alright."

Maybe it was a lie, just a little bit. Ahsoka _was_ fine — but he didn't know how long that would last. Maybe he shouldn't have said it at all. But it was worth it to see the unease disappear in exchange for a small, tentative smile. "She will," Barriss echoed, and Rex nodded.

"She will."


	8. New Chapter by Jade-Max

**Third installment by Jade-Max. :) **

**Author's Note:** While I'm not thrilled with what happened to Barriss in the show, this bunny bit me and begged to be written… so, I hope ya'll enjoyed :)

**New Chapter **

_Post Season 5, Episode 20_

"So you're the Jedi who was going to let Skywalker's youngling take the fall for you."

Barriss Offee didn't look up from her position on the floor; legs crossed, arms relaxed, wrists lying comfortably on her knees. Her eyes were closed, her breathing even and centered as she was semi-focused within herself, the voice was as unexpected as it wasn't. Somehow, she wasn't surprised with the identity of her visitor though she'd never yet met them in person before. "Ahsoka is hardly a youngling."

"So she's not," agreed the voice, the drawled tones almost amused. "It ain't natural for Jedi to turn on their friends – or so they'd have us believe."

"The Jedi are not what they once were," she returned evenly, feeling the burn of that frustration in her gut and taking a deep breath. "Peacekeepers who are warriors are no longer peacekeepers. They are murderers and enforcers. Jedi," she opened her eyes to meet the glowing red of the Duros who'd somehow managed to enter her cell, "are no longer the upstanding impartial individuals they once strove to be. They are killers; arms of the military who will do what is necessary to win a war they have no business fighting."

"Can't say I blame you for setting that one up," her _guest_ smirked.

"It is regrettable that Ahsoka was the one implied," Barriss countered, genuinely remorseful her best friend had been the one to get involved. It hadn't been personal, simply a case of Ahsoka having been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If only Letta had called Master Skywalker to her cell instead of Ahsoka; her instructions had been 'the Skywalker team' - emphasis on Skywalker. "If there had been another Jedi to implicate, I would have."

"Sure, little lady. Tell yourself that." A chuckle joined the smirk. "By implicating the Skywalker whelp, you put the focus on the only other Jedi of as questionable methods as he. I'm impressed," a tilt of a trademark wide brimmed hat was a sign of respect, "not something I thought I'd ever say to a Jedi."

"No longer a Jedi."

"No longer _just _a Jedi," was the mild correction. "Word is you're being reconditioned."

"So I'm told." Lifting her head, she inhaled deeply, her eyes narrowing. "What do you want, Bane? To gloat over how the mighty have fallen?"

Cad Bane didn't move from his relaxed posture across the room, one shoulder to the wall, booted feet crossed at the ankle. "I don't need to talk to _you _for that. More and more of you Jedi fall prey to a desire for red lightsabers every day."

Barriss refused to be baited. After nearly getting Ahsoka executed, she'd worked hard to center herself again, considering the consequences of her actions penance for the method she'd chosen in making her statement. No one had come to see her and, because she'd been a Jedi at the time of her confession, she'd been granted leniency from the Chancellor. Temporarily. She might still yet find herself in front of a firing squad. If that did happen, she intended to meet it calmly; as a Jedi should. As a result, she let the snark of the Bounty Hunter pass.

"What do you want, Bane?" she repeated the question pointedly, letting him know that she had heard he'd failed to answer it. "I am already in prison; you can't collect a bounty on me."

"Sure about that?"

Unable to help herself, Barriss smiled. "Kill me here and even with the security holos all you'd do is implicate yourself in the death of a prisoner." His smile grew impossibly wider, with an edge she didn't like and a knot formed in her stomach. "The recorders are off."

"Points to the Jedi."

"How do you expect to prove you killed me without them?"

"I didn't say anything about killing you."

His gaze raked her form as Barriss rose to her feet, suddenly wary and disliking the way he was regarding her.

"Such a shame you won't be on the open market," his tone was laced with innuendo and, to her way of thinking, deliberately insulting, "Without a gag reflex you'd fetch top credit."

"You don't honestly think I'm going to run from _you _after everything I've done, do you?"

"Your choice; I'm not paid for the chase, just the delivery."

Barriss narrowed her eyes and squeezed her hand, watching with a sense of satisfaction as Bane swallowed a little uncomfortably, applying just enough pressure to his throat to let him know she had him; not the other way around. Taking a step towards him, her smile was less than friendly. "This _delivery _might be harder than you thought."

"I hardly think so."

"You can't enter here with a weapon, Bane; it was foolish of you to put yourself at my mercy."

"Arrogance," he smiled that trademark half smile of his despite the visible move of his throat. "You Jedi never learn."

Barriss lifted her hand, closing her fingers, lifting the Bounty Hunter off the ground. "For one who speaks of arrogance," she shook her head, taking another step towards him as he lifted one hand to his throat, "you display an abhorrent amount."

Drawing close, she closed her fingers, increasing the pressure until she saw the side of his neck start to contract. Bane's fingers clenched at the unseen hand, trying to pry off the invisible grip as he gasped. His head tilted, eyelids closing as he visibly struggled to breathe. Barriss drew closer. "So much," she jeered, "for the Galaxy's most feared Bounty Hunter."

She was just inside of his range when Bane struck. A boot to the face broke her concentration and sent her sprawling. Dazed, she barely registered the voice on the edge of her conscience.

"Stupid Jedi; you all think we breathe like you do."

There was no time to respond, no conscious thought as pain arced through her body in a brief wave, the prick of something sharp piercing her skin as she cried out in denial… and then it was too late. Whatever fate had brought Cad Bane to her cell was upon her.

Darkness closed in and, with that loss of consciousness, the next chapter of her life was set to begin.

_fin_


	9. Apology by LadyZelthePen

**Third installment by myself, LadyZelthePen. :) **

**Yeah, I really can't help myself. I've become hooked on the Ferus Olin AU, so this is just another brief moment of that. :) It is in conjunction with Soon, and I plan to use both of these in a full-length AU later on. :)**

**This is set right before the Season 5 finale, and it is an AU. :) **

**Apology**

He stopped at the door, noting the strength of the iron and the complex lock. It was customary in this sector of the Temple where they kept the more dangerous enemies of the Order. Of course, all of those enemies had lived hundreds of years ago. Ever since the Jedi Order had allied itself with the Republic, there hadn't been much of a need to use this sector.

Until now.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the empty corridor, pleased to find no one else had followed him here. He keyed in the appropriate code for the cell and watched the door swish open.

The Togruta inside looked up, her blue eyes widening just a little. He stepped inside, his heavy cloak brushing against the three steps down. He shuddered a little, his connection to the Force slipping away. These cells had been designed to hold Jedi, though it had been too long since the last inhabitant.

"I guess you're here to take me to the prison now, aren't you?"

For a woman so young who'd been through so much in the past week, her tone was quiet and interestingly devoid of resentment. She stared up at him, respecting the silence, while he took the moment to study her. Her blue and white striped montrals were just past her shoulders, indicating she wasn't any older than seventeen. Her sienna colored skin contrasted nicely with her montrals, and if he were a younger man, he would have found her attractive.

Ahsoka Tano stood up, squaring her shoulders. She extended her wrists just slightly toward him in expectation of him binding her. She was so small, only standing as tall as his chest, and he had to tilt his head downward to look at them.

"I'm not here to take you anywhere, Padawan Tano."

She blinked once, twice, staring up at him. "You…you spoke."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course, young one. Like you, I am sentient- just like all the other Sentinels."

"What do you want with me, then?" Ahsoka turned and sat down on the bench again, resting her hands flat on either side.

He reached up and pulled away the metal mask over his face. "I came to say I'm sorry. Ahsoka Tano, I am sorry." He dropped the metal piece and took three strides toward her, kneeling down and taking her sienna hand in his.

Her eyes widened. "What… I don't understand, Master Sentinel."

"You have done no wrong, Ahsoka. You who are selfless and true and we have committed the worst crime against you. Please, I beg you, forgive us."

He spread her fingers open, dropping the delicate chain into her open palm, keeping his gaze on hers. Her blue eyes widened as she took in her Padawan braid.

"How did you get this?" she asked, her voice a breathless whisper.

"I'm the one who took it from you. Forgive me, Padawan Tano. I was merely-"

"Holding your position." Her blue eyes met his. "I understand." Her sienna colored fingers closed around the chain for a moment, and she closed her eyes. "This means so much to me, but…" Ahsoka Tano stood and held her hand out, the jade colored beads dangling from her closed fingers. "I can't stay."

The corners of his mouth started to rise in a smile. "Somehow, I knew you would say that. After what has happened…"

Ahsoka nodded, dropping the beaded chain into his palm. He tucked the braid into a pouch on his belt, not taking his gaze from her.

"Do I get to know your name, Master Sentinel?"

"Ferus Olin at your service, Padawan Tano." He made a sweeping bow in her direction, and she smiled. "Now, young one, if you'll kindly come with me." He held out his hand to her, and she twined her fingers with his.

"Where are we going?"

"Out."


	10. Truce by Amaryllis Complex

**Fourth installment by Amaryllis Complex. :) **

**Truce**

It was not the most pleasant of places to be, but for someone like Ventress, it was where she conducted most of her business. The cantina was rowdy enough to muffle any and all conversations, and with the rise of the Empire, everyone was only concerned for themselves. No one spared her a second glance as she wove her way through the tables, dark cloak rippling as she sank down and crossed one leg over the other. Leaning back, she locked her attention upon the door and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. Even though he was clad in civilian clothes, the man that strode through the door stood out like a sore thumb, from the crop of black hair on his head to the stiff way that he walked. His gaze was wary as it swept over the occupants of the room, and brown eyes narrowed upon her before he approached.

There were a thousand things that Asajj Ventress had never imagined herself doing. One was being betrayed by her own Master, another being partnering up with Skywalker's little pest of a Padawan — but this trumped it all in spades. Strange times, she knew, bred strange alliances.

Still, even with regards to what was going on in the galaxy at the moment, she could not help but lean back in her chair, one leg thrown over the other as she observed her companion with unconcealed amusement. Her mouth curved, eyes flashing as she took in his appearance. She did not make a habit of learning names of her enemies, and especially not when there were hundreds of faces just like his.

His stood alone, however, if only for the angry scar that stretched down the side of his face, across a pale cybernetic eye. Her own handiwork, and no doubt one of the reasons why the clone stood before her, watching her in unrestrained dislike. It rolled off him in waves, but Ventress could not bring herself to care. Not that she would have anyway, but that was beside the point as she shifted, chin tilting upward.

"Just what would someone like you want with me? Last time I checked, you were one of the Empire's many loyal dogs." Though she could admit that she had changed since being betrayed by her Master, there was still large part of her that took pleasure in working over people that she came across. It did not matter who, enemies and begruding allies alike got the same treatment. And in the case of targets and enemies, provoking anger made it easier to take them down.

"Believe me," the clone hissed through gritted teeth, "if I knew of anyone else who could help me, I would."

"And there isn't," Ventress cut in, "so you're stuck with me." She leaned forward, mouth curving into a predatory smile. "Lucky me."

His expression made it clear that he wanted nothing more than to shoot her, but in civilian clothes, Ventress had the upper hand in the weapon's department. And if push came to shove, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. "If we're going to be allies," she began, reaching forward to shove him into the chair beside hers, "you need stop looking like you'd like to kill me."

He didn't look pleased at being man-handled, the muscles in his jaw taut as he turned away, surveying the chattering occupants before he looked back. "Fine," he bit out, and Ventress' mouth quirked in a momentarily amused smile before it faded and she stood.

"Come on," she beckoned, and moved to leave, turning back towards him to add, "this isn't exactly the place to be talking about our type of deal." Though she had found that the noisiness helped drown out conversations, she didn't want to risk being overheard.

With little choice other than to follow the former assassin, Wolffe stood, glanced at the patrons one last time, and followed.


	11. Third Time's the Charm by Jade-Max

**Fourth installment by Jade-Max. **

**Author's Note: **You would think, after writing crack!ships, I'd be surprise when something like this hits me; instead I just shake my head and wonder where it came from while I write it out. Enjoy ;)

**Third Time's the Charm**

_"He's alive."_

_"How can you tell?"_

_"Just trust me; I know."_

_"Are you sure? No one could have survived that blast!"_

_"Di'kut-"_

_"Hey! I'm telling!"_

_"-that's _commando_ armor."_

_"You're such a know it all!"_

_"At least I listen in class!"_

_"Armor is armor; he should be fried!"_

_"Don't you pay attention to anything?"_

_"If you're so smart, shouldn't we take it off and check?"_

_"Do _you_ know how to remove clone armor?"_

_"No."_

_"Neither do I, but I bet _she _does. Besides, she did say load him onto the ship."_

_"I don't think she meant if he's a corpse!"_

_"Just help me get him up and out of here before the droids comeback."_

_"Oof!"_

_"Careful; he's heavy! Don't drop his-"_

He woke to darkness and a splitting headache.

His mouth was dry, his ears ringing, and there was something damp but soft across his eyes. His body felt leaden, unresponsive but there was softness beneath his head and the room smelled of incense and flame and some strange kind of musk.

This wasn't his room.

_Where am I?_

His head was spinning, aching and, when he went to remove the item - a _cloth_ he finally identified – from his eyes, cool, slim fingers wrapped around his wrist, preventing him from doing so. The moment they touched him, his brain, despite its trauma, catalogued their capabilities in a heartbeat.

Calluses, on fingers and palm; strength despite their slenderness; the firm grip of someone accustomed to dealing with stronger individuals - and winning; cool, much cooler than his own skin; feminine.

_Feminine?_

"Easy soldier," the voice was low, throaty, and pitched with a gentle, amused concern that almost sounded like a buzzing noise to his ears. "You've taken quite a beating - and not just from the explosion."

_Explosion? Had the diner gone up?_

"Wh-" he almost choked on the question, his mouth dry, and the fingers left his wrist, a loss he felt almost immediately until the curve and outlet of a straw was pressed to his lips.

"Here; this should help."

Cool liquid washed into his throat as he sucked it into his mouth and swallowed almost greedily, making a noise of complaint when she removed it. The word came out a growled demand. "More!"

"Not a chance. I might not have been the best first aid student, but I _do _remember not to over water a patient."

He exhaled, the water having revived, but also exhausted, him, leaving him more drained for having drank than not. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. _Wasn't I wearing armor? _The question drifted away as something within the cool drink hit his system with the strength and force of a turbolaser blast.

"Sleep, soldier," the voice admonished. "You're among friends... and I'll try and keep the brats away from you until you're a little stronger."

He woke next to the sound of a hushed, heated debate.

"I told you he was a clone!"

"I never said he wasn't!"

"You said he couldn't be this far out; that there was no way a _clone_ was here without a squad!"

"Well? Where _is _his squad."

"Maybe they were all killed or captured," the voice was subdued but earnest - and very young to his ears, contrary to the brashness of the other young voice arguing with it. "I wonder what his name is - if he has one."

The question was like a signal and, exhaling softly, the cloth still across his eyes, he answered it without thinking, his own voice raw and rough. "Gregor."

"Did you say something?"

Somehow, he didn't feel the innocent question was directed his way, but he inhaled and added some strength to his voice, feeling somewhat better. "My _name_ is Gregor."

There was a cry and a laugh and a garble of excitement accompanied with a shrieking of what sounded to be some kind of deep throated animal. A random, echoed a call for 'a soda' or similar and then the voices disappeared, the soft _click_ of a door closing reaching him.

Exhaling again, Gregor tested his body, finding his fingers responsive and not as heavy. His wrists twisted, cracking as did most of his joints as he shifted and moved them, flexing muscles that had been dormant for who knew how many days. There were aches and pains, bruising he could _feel_ over most of his body, but it was intact.

Memory returned as he lay there, of the droids and their little aquatic leader, offering to come back for him. Giving them permission to go and practically ordering them not to come for him as he leapt into the middle of the fuel depot. Not really expecting to survive, but knowing there was a slim chance his hearty armor would protect him, he'd ignited the fuel pods. The blast must have thrown him clear and landed him here.

Wherever _here_ was.

The sound of the door opening brought the familiar, deeper female voice back; his caregiver's concern obvious but accompanied with a note of elation. "They tell me you're awake; Gregor, is it?"

"Yeah."

Her next statement was amused. "I see they didn't exaggerate. Don't take the cloth off just yet, okay?"

He was itching to see what she looked like, but a distant memory of a medic's stern admonishment held him in check. "Why?"

"We don't know how the head injuries have affected you just yet. The Medical droid did what it could, but you could have nerve damage after the explosion." A weight settled onto the edge of the bed, a hip brushing his before her cool fingers touched his cheek, slipping him the straw again. He sucked greedily at the cool fluid as she continued. "Those are the droid's words, not mine, by the way. I just know what Kix and Coric have had a chance to drill into my brain on the battlefield."

He spat out the straw, conscious of her earlier comment about not over watering the patient, and was relieved when, after a moment, he didn't feel the same drowsiness of the last time. "You're not a medic?"

She laughed, a throaty, slightly rough sound that was tempered with self-consciousness, the slight _plink _of the glass being set aside almost lost to it. "Me? Not a chance; I'm a Jedi."

"A Jedi!"

"Woah!" Her body landed across his as he almost shot off the bunk, ingrained training demanding he stand, salute and acknowledge her rank. What he got instead was being pinned back to the bed, the softness of her chest flush against, one leg thrown across his own and the full weight of her as she bodily held him down. "Easy there, soldier! You're not well enough to be sitting up let alone standing!"

"My apologies for-" he started only to stop when she began to chuckle; he felt it through the thin cloth between them. "Sir?"

"My name's Ahsoka, Gregor," she sounded amused again. "Until you're back on your feet I expect you to use it."

"Protocol-"

"You've been away from protocol a long time judging by the records in your HUD; I prefer a little informality anyway - unless you're going to be difficult."

"Yes sir; no sir."

_"Ahsoka,"_ she stressed. "Don't make me make it an order because I will if I have to."

Judging by the strength of her hold as she was splayed across him, he didn't doubt she had the strength to enforce it too. He nodded once, sharply. "Yes, sir - Ahsoka."

"Better." He could hear the smile in her voice. "If I get up do you promise to behave?"

"I promise not to try and stand."

"That'll do for starters," she agreed. "How about letting me go now?"

It was only then Gregor realized why she was still splayed across him and hadn't moved. He had her in as tight a grip as she held him. Where his arms were flat on the bunk at his sides, he'd twisted his hands and arms to grasp hers in a lock that had been a totally unconscious reaction. It couldn't have been anything else when he didn't remember doing it.

Worse, he wasn't entirely sure how to let her go without making it worse.

"Flex your shoulders."

"Sir?"

"Flex your shoulders," she repeated, a faint smile still audible in her voice. "Rex used this hold on me last week; trust me. Flex and rotate as you release my hands or you might break something.

Gregor did as instructed and her weight across him eased. Daringly, protocol be damned, he twisted them again and felt her freeze as his hands trailed up her arms. His fingers brushed over long gloves before meeting cool skin again, a series of arm bands, all making the shape of a diamond and then continued upwards to meet the edge of her top. She was muscled, lithe and wiry, but soft too.

"Gregor?" His hands stilled. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see you."

"Your eyes-"

"Not like that."

"Through… touch?" Her words sounded uncertain this time; younger.

"How else could I see you?"

"I… ah…" Ahsoka coughed. "No offence, soldier, but if my boys could see you right now, not being able to see would be the least of your worries."

"Your boys?"

"The five hundred and first's Torrent Company," even to his ears she sounded proud; how about that - a Jedi proud of her men who called them affectionately by name? "They can be a little…"

He almost chuckled when she hesitated, well aware of his genome's penchant for possessive and overbearing actions when it came to people they cared deeply for. "Over protective?"

"Sure," she sounded almost impish this time, "we'll go with that. Don't get me wrong, they know I can take care of myself, but…"

"… would prefer to be involved."

There was a silent understanding between them before he felt her body shift and move just a fraction. Was she nodding? He didn't know. Fortunately, after a moment, she seemed to realize he needed an audible cue.

"Right." Shifting on his chest, she made to leave but his fingers flexed on her shoulders. "Gregor - I need to get up."

"I want to see you, Ahsoka."

"Gregor-"

"Please."

She sighed. "Can I at least sit up while you do it? This isn't exactly…"

"Professional?"

"Comfortable," Her correction was wry. One hand tapped the center of his chest. "You're built to be a lean, mean, killing machine; not a pillow."

He chuckled, easing his grip a fraction. "You're easily accessible this way." Gregor felt her sigh again and relented, immediately missing the weight of her across his chest. She was engaging, charming in a fashion, and unlike the other Jedi his foggy memory could dredge up in those moments. "If you'd rather I don't, Ahsoka-"

"No; it's okay. Just let me up for a minute, okay?"

Gregor did as she asked and her weight left the bunk. Listening, he heard her moving about the room before the soft _tap tap _of fingers on a keypad were followed by a beep and then a soft _blip _of a noise indicating an engaged lock.

"There; now the younglings can't disturb us."

"Younglings?"

"I'm playing chaperone for a handful of Jedi who are building their lightsabers."

"If I'm keeping you from something-"

"Five minutes while you figure out what I look like won't hurt, Gregor."

"How did you and the younglings end up here?"

"Our ship was attacked," her voice drew near again, the tones of it holding a soothing undertone he found to be very appealing, "we escaped but had to land to make emergency repairs. We arrived just in time to see a shuttle taking off and _you_ thrown around and then out by that explosion."

"What are the odds a Jedi would fine me, huh?"

"Must be the will of the Force, or so the Masters like to say," the bunk dipped again as she sat next to him. "Lift your hands and hold them in front of your chest."

He did so, waiting, and she cupped the backs of his, lifting them, before settling them against her face.

"Be careful," she cautioned wryly and he could feel her jaw moving, "if you get too close to my lips, I might bite."

"Caution noted," he acknowledged, but wasn't really focused on the words; he was focused on what he could _feel _under his fingers. Her skin was smooth, faintly ridged in distinctive patters across her eyebrows, cheek bones and cheeks. She had a heart shaped face but, when he moved his hands upwards, across the ridges where her eyebrows should have been, and further, he encountered a lip of smooth satin meeting supple, almost leathery skin instead of hair.

Frowning, he traced the line, finding it ran around her face, the division distinctive and, he noted, she lacked ears. He shifted his hands, sliding them along the edges, finding a faint crease about halfway up her face, and following it before flattening his palms against her head. They started to slide downwards, his fingers curling around-

_Lekku?_

Her hands closed firmly about his wrists. "Don't get me wrong, Gregor, I'm starting to think you're swell, but we're not close enough for _that_."

"Twi'lek?"

"Togruta; the headgear is different but just as sensitive."

Taking a moment, he focused on that word; _Togruta_. After several long seconds an image formed in his mind. There was a Jedi on the Council who was a Togruta; she'd just been assigned to the clone's training when he'd been shipped out. Arching horns above her head, dangling lekku and burgundy colored skin crisscrossed by distinctive facial markings; she'd been something else to behold.

"What are you thinking?"

"I've seen a Togruta; she'd just been assigned to Kamino before we shipped out."

"Master Shaak Ti."

"You know her?"

"More I know of her; we haven't spoken much." Her tone turned wry, "I'm not _quite_ as old as she is."

He cracked a smile. "You seem different than other Jedi I've met."

"I'm told I _am _different," she tugged on his wrists. "Can you - thanks."

He let his hands fall back to the bed, beyond frustrated with the inability to see. Not that he needed it to know she was special. "Why do people say you're different?"

"For starters, I'm Anakin Skywalker's Padawan."

"You're an apprentice?"

"A very skilled one, thank you very much!"

There was no heat in her reply, more of a teasing note that made his chest ache. When was the last time anyone had talked to him like this; teased him? Distant, broken memories of brothers he could barely remember surfaced but they were incomplete. Something must have shown on his face as cool fingers smoothed his brow.

"The cloth can be removed tomorrow, Gregor; just give the medical gunk a chance to work, okay?"

"Medical gunk?" he would have blinked if he could have opened his eyes. "No offence, Commander, but that's not reassuring."

"You just had your hands on my lekku, Gregor," the wry tone was back, "I think you can call me Ahsoka."

"Sorry - Ahsoka." He reached up to find her hand and squeezed it. "You did ask. The ranks are more out of habit."

"I know; my boys do it too." She shifted. "You should rest."

"I'm not tired - and don't even _think _about drugging me again."

She laughed, a musical sound that filled the room, lifting and buoying his spirits as they hadn't been before. "I wouldn't dream of it; sleep. I need to finish the repairs on the ship."

"You're a mechanic too?"

"I might be a Jedi," she said it in such a matter-of-fact manner he was surprised; she wasn't insulted by his question, but seemed… resigned. "But my skill set is probably as broad as yours. Sleep; we'll talk later."

He let her go, listening to her unlock the door and leave, the portal closing behind her. _Ahsoka the Jedi Padawan; my Savior._ What was the term he's heard from Iego? Angels? That was it; Guardian Angel.

_My Guardian Angel, Jedi Commander Ahsoka... I need to ask her last name._

At least he assumed she had one; most people who weren't cloned did. He was looking forward to being able to open her eyes and _see _the amusement he could hear, on her face. He wanted to see her eyes sparkle; to see the pride on her expression as she spoke of her men. Gregor was looking forward to getting to know a Jedi who hadn't bothered to ask his rank or number, but instead asked his _name_ and treated him like a person instead of a machine.

Unlike Colonel Gascon who'd only wanted to use him for his own gain. He let the thought slip away; a _Jedi _had rescued him, what did it matter how one tiny GAR Officer had treated him?

Inhaling deeply, he was suddenly bone weary, his discussion and with Ahsoka having taken more out of him than had seemed at the time. Realizing that her instruction to sleep was sound, he turned, getting comfortable, reassured that his previous sleep had helped heal him just a little when his abused muscles didn't protest so much.

For the first time since landing on the forsaken rock that he'd called home for so long, Gregor fell asleep with a smile on his face and an eager anticipation for tomorrow.

_Fin_


	12. The Laughter of Friendship by LadyZel

**Fourth installment by myself, LadyZelthePen. **

**This pretty much wraps up the First Impressions collab by Amaryllis Complex, Jade Max, and I- although we could occasionally add to it ever so often. :) Thanks so much to everyone who's read and reviewed this fic; it's been a ton of fun to work on! :)**

**The Laughter of Friendship**

Siri Tachi had always known children could be a handful. There were countless times in her own childhood she had vexed the crèche masters and her own master, Adi Gallia. Whether by throwing unusual tantrums or striking out at her playmates, as a child, Siri knew countless ways she could get attention. That knowledge had only expanded as she had grown older, and while she didn't have much room for the more childish attention-seekers, there were plenty of other ways she could "steal the spotlight," as a particular auburn-haired boy had so fittingly put it just the other day.

But for all her knowledge on attention-seeking, Siri had very quickly learned there were two types of consequences, or reactions. The first was simple; the person whom she was trying to get the attention of merely gave her their attention. It was as simple as that.

The second, however, was much more complex and most times more disastrous. Obi wan Kenobi usually ended up laughing at, teasing, and then mocking her for the situations she got herself into, but those instances only served to put him in the same predicament.

The punishment of suspension, otherwise known as: "You're grounded."

So it was, Siri found herself headed toward the crèche for a day of handling and caring for the youngest and most innocent members of the Jedi Order.

Siri honestly had nothing against babies or toddlers; as much as she had seen, the children of the Jedi were more mature and a bit calmer than the average child, so she wasn't too worried about them. It was the other ones she worried about- the ones that had the habit of ripping out hair to touch, or they wanted to chew on everything because their molars were just coming in.

She approached the main door to the crèche…

…and stopped when she heard the distinct scream of pure terror. The very kind of scream that sent chills down her spine, and the type of scream that could only come from one person.

A toddler.

Throwing a tantrum.

Siri backed away from the door just as it swooshed open and the most interesting child she had ever seen before ran screaming out. The child himself was human; the average size of a three year old with dark hair (although she noticed an odd streak of blond in the front), and he was red. Most likely from the screaming.

What made this particular average human boy so interesting was his skin color.

"Purple," she whispered, pressing herself against the wall as the child tore past, followed by a rather out-of-breath master. Whoever this child was had painted himself completely purple, except for half his face and his hair. Although, Siri thought she caught a glimpse of glitter and macaroni bits in his hair.

Craft day.

Of all things to get involved with today…. Gallia must have known what day it was for the crechlings, or she wouldn't have bothered to send Siri here in the first place.

The child rounded a corner, and Siri's eyes widened. She knew there was not much of a difference between her own anatomy and that of a small human male, but she had never fully expected she would one day be graced with a view like that.

The boy- the one who had painted himself purple and decided it was the perfect time to throw a screaming fit on Craft Day- was naked.

The crèche master rounded the corner only a second later after the boy, although Siri could still hear the child's screams, drowning out the woman's attempts to soothe him. She stood there waiting (after all, she was supposed to report to Master Dahlia Lihn, and it seemed the gracious Twi'lek woman was a tad bit busy at the moment).

Moments later, Master Lihn rounded the corner with the purple boy under one arm. He wasn't putting up much of a struggle, and he was silent, for one who had been so adamant about running away a moment ago. Siri stifled a giggle as they passed by, receiving a brief and rather curt nod from the Twi'lek.

Following them inside, Siri took in the sight of a dozen or so little persons quietly and happily engaged in their activities for Craft Day. She studied them for a moment, noting the various sentients present, and then continued on to follow Master Lihn to the 'fresher.

"No bath!"

The Twi'lek had set the boy down on the tiled floor of the 'fresher and was now leaning over the bathing unit to run the appropriate temperature of water.

"You can tell me 'no bath' all you want, young man, but you are getting a bath today. Of course, we could have avoided all of this if you hadn't insisted on painting yourself completely purple."

Siri bit her lip to keep from laughing, instead focusing on the intense expression that had settled on the small boy's face. His nose scrunched up, and the blond streak of his bangs fell into his gray eyes. He folded his thin arms across his purple chest and sighed heavily in resignation.

Slowly, Siri touched the boy's consciousness; gently enough so he wouldn't register her doing such a thing, but strong enough to get a feel for what he was thinking inside.

The boy slowly turned to face her, his gray eyes widening just a fraction and his mouth opening in a perfect little "o". Siri held still while he studied her in return, though his attempts to touch her mind were clumsy.

"What a strange little mind you have," she murmured, pulling back. The boy visibly relaxed, turning to look at Master Lihn.

The Twi'lek was glancing from Siri to the boy with undisguised curiosity, but not astonishment. After a moment, she gently took the boy's arm.

"Alright, into the bath you go, Ferus."

"His name is Ferus?" Siri asked.

"Yes." Lihn settled the child into the water, beginning to scrub off the purple paint that had so decorated his person only a moment before. "Ferus Olin, one of the strangest little boys you will ever meet."

His gray eyes met hers again, lighting up with amusement. Siri smiled a little and held a finger to her lips. She eyed the small cup that was now hovering just above Lihn's head, precariously full of water.

"Oh!"

The laughter that followed caused the other younglings in the crèche to pause in their activities. There was only one laugh like that, they had learned.

The laughter of friendship.


End file.
